Collection of Stories for Demented Children

by Carroll, John H.

  It was too hard to follow and didn’t make sense, so Drippy swung his leg and tossed the little green man far out of the forest, over a few hills and past a dale. Then he stood there awhile and thought about the words.

  A drizzle was falling from scattered clouds and the sun shone just right for Drippy to glow brightly. The sound of the rain pitter-pattered against the trees and ground, creating a gentle symphony. A thought occurred to him that rainbows always looked toward the sun if it was out. Rainbows always looked forward.

  Without moving, Drippy looked on the other side of himself. To his immense surprise, he could see his leg far in the distance to the south near the coast. It was a glistening sort of a glimmer that could be seen through everything in the way.

  He began walking backward toward it as fast as he could possibly move. He ran into a few trees and a barn along the way, but kept going in desperation to recover the leg before anything else happened to it.

  ***

  By late afternoon, he arrived at a rich green cliff looking out over the stormy ocean. The rainbow leg was in the center of the field right above a tiny pot, which Drippy assumed had gold in it. The leprechaun just happened to be sleeping with his hat down over his eyes and his back against the pot. Leprechauns were always taking naps when they weren’t stealing rainbow legs.

  Drippy turned around to be able to look forward again. The leg remained in sight now that he was close. “Hey! Leprechaun! I’m here for my leg!” He yelled in a booming voice, startling the little green man awake.

  “Eh? Wha’? . . .” The lecherous leprechaun stood and stumbled a few steps forward while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  Drippy decided not to waste time trying to listen to any more Irish brogue, so he swung the tree back with all his might and punted the leprechaun high into the air. The diminutive scoundrel shot like a rocket through the air headed deep into the heart of England, yelling curses at Drippy the whole time.

  The pot of gold was still attached to the stolen leg, holding it down. Drippy swung the tree back and kicked the pot in the direction of a nearby village for the villagers to find. If the leprechaun wasn’t mad enough before, he would be when he came back and found the gold missing.

  The leg shimmered dimly, waiting for Drippy to take it back. But there was still the matter of the beat-up tree acting as his peg leg. It had done a wonderful job of supporting Drippy and he had become fond of it, so he dug the roots deep into the emerald grass atop the cliff. Then he used powerful rainbow magic to restore the loyal tree’s health. When he stepped away, the leafy branches reached to the sky to soak in the wonderful warmth of a ray of sun that was bursting through the clouds. The magic left the tree with all the brilliant, beautiful shades of the rainbow. It didn’t seem to miss its natural coloring.

  Drippy hopped over to his leg and reattached it with ease. It felt wonderful to be whole again. He hopped up and down then walked around the maple tree a few times. Everything was as it should be and his colors glowed brightly in happiness.

  He knew his colors shone bright in Ireland, but didn’t want to risk his leg again. Plus, the thief might come back and seek vengeance, so Drippy went off in search of nice drizzles in lands where there were no leprechauns. Everywhere he traveled, Drippy was admired by all those who were fortunate enough to gaze upon him. For the most part, he faced the sun, but every once in a while, he would look on the other side of himself to keep things in perspective.

  The End

  ###

  Unholy Cow

  This story is dedicated to brooms that have the misfortune to be ridden by ugly old witches.

  ***

  “I hope they throw out some delicious leftovers,” Abel the raven cawed eagerly from a nearby branch. He was staring hopefully at the headlights of a car coming up the dark country road.

  “Littering is one of my least favorite sins . . . at least it would be if I had a least favorite sin. I really like them all,” Runyx replied in her wicked, rhythmic voice before going back to grazing on luscious green grass. She wasn’t in a normal field, but in the carefully tended yard of a farmer’s house.

  Runyx was a beautiful, midnight black cow who loved long walks in the moonlight. She didn’t behave like the other cows, preferring to go off on her own. She had the ability to walk through fences and could even talk to people, although she didn’t like to. Most importantly, she was very evil with unholy powers at her command.

  “Littering is my favorite,” Abel disagreed, preening his long feathers, which glistened in the light of the half moon that had just come out from behind puffy clouds. “Hopefully they’ll throw out perfectly good food for me to eat, maybe even a little candy. It is Halloween after all.”

  “Candy is bad for you, Abel. It’ll rot your gut.”

  “I’m a raven, nothing rots our guts. Plus I’m immortal, so it doesn’t matter,” he pointed out with a wingtip.

  “Yes . . . well there is that,” Runyx admitted. They were both immortal, and the best of friends on top of that. The two of them had known each other for centuries, working together to spread chaos and turmoil throughout the lands.

  “The moon just disappeared behind the clouds again,” Abel said, looking up at the glowing cloud passing across the sky. “Isn’t it supposed to be full on Halloween? It just doesn’t seem right only being half full.”

  “That’s just in the movies. The moon works normally no matter what night it is.” She tore a flower out of a pretty garden that had been placed around a fountain with happy looking cherub statues spitting water out of their mouths. Runyx hated cherubs. They were little jerks that ran around in diapers and shot things for no apparent reason.

  The car roared by, its lights glistening in the red glow of Runyx’s eyes. A bag of fast food from the local Fish Burgers was thrown out the window and Abel immediately pounced on the bag, ripping it open to get the partially eaten burger and fries within.

  “You get awfully lucky with food being thrown out windows. Are you using your dark powers for personal gain?” Runyx asked suspiciously.

  “No . . . I would never do that,” he protested innocently. “I don’t lie either.” Abel laughed in his high-pitched caw.

  Runyx chuckled softly, the evil sound causing the flowers in the garden to curl back in fear. “What good is having evil powers if you don’t use them for personal gain?” she asked in amusement. “Where is Stryk? He should have been here by now.”

  The voice of a proper English gentleman came from the shadows on the other side of the fountain. “Here I am. A pumpkin had the nerve to attack my leg. I had to shake the bugger off!”

  “A pumpkin . . . How in the world do you get attacked by a pumpkin?” Runyx asked the straw man who walked up dressed in a tux and top hat, unlike the country scarecrows in their coveralls and plaid shirts. Stryk had joined the pair of them about eighty years earlier during a mission in England.

  “No one respects scarecrows since that blasted Wizard of Oz movie came out. They seem to think we’re all brainless gits. It’s quite irritating.” Stryk dusted a sleeve that was already immaculate. Tightly packed straw hands fit neatly into gloves. Bits of straw stuck out of the sleeves and collar. His face was also made of bound straw with large button eyes and coal nose. He was rather handsome for a scarecrow.

  “A pumpkin attacked you?” Abel asked incredulously. “Pumpkins don’t watch movies. I’m pretty sure they don’t actually attack . . . anything.”

  Stryk put his arms out to the side. “How should I know why the pumpkin attacked me? I was walking through the field, minding my own business when it suddenly jumped up and started bouncing about my head and shoulders.” He took a deep breath and sighed even though he didn’t actually need to breathe.

  “How did you get away?” Runyx asked.

  “Why, I ran, of course. I make it a point never to get into fights with pumpkins.” He straightened his jacket. “Shall we proceed?”

  “Did you discover anything useful, or were you too
busy waiting for the Great Pumpkin to do your job?” Abel asked.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be scared of me you foolish little crow?” Stryk folded his arms and glared at Abel.

  “I’m a raven, not a crow. And I am neither little nor foolish. And nobody’s scared of scarecrows, you said so yourself. And . . .”

  “Aren’t ravens and crows the same thing?” Runyx asked, mostly to shut him up.

  “You’re my best friend and you don’t know the difference? I’m offended,” Abel declared. He went back to picking at the fishburger with his beak.

  “The basic difference between ravens and crows is that ravens are larger, pointier and much crazier than crows,” Stryk stated with a grin and a wink. Runyx chuckled and winked back.

  Abel spun around and fluffed his feathers, ready to pull straw out of the scarecrow’s collar. Instead, he hopped up to the fountain, spread his wings, and flew off toward the small town that was their destination.

  Runyx followed at a casual pace with Stryk right next to her. She magically shifted through the wooden fence protecting the farm’s grassy yard and turned alongside of the road. It would take about fifteen minutes to reach the edge of the town, but they had plenty of time.

  “Dear girl, I regret to inform you, but I saw a herd of holy cows eating grass near the graveyard,” Stryk told her nervously, clearly not wanting to bring the matter up. Runyx froze in her tracks without saying a word in response. Stryk stopped as well, holding perfectly still as only a scarecrow could. After a minute, they resumed walking again. “They’ll likely stay near the graveyard to protect the dead from being disturbed,” Stryk suggested hopefully.

  “You’re right. We don’t need to worry about them tonight. I just don’t like holy cows. They’re so irritating and they won’t stop preaching whenever you get near one.”

  “True. At least they’re not as bad as a holy moly. Those things really get on my nerves. Even worse is holy sh . . .”

  “Shh, I hear people ahead.” Runyx stopped and cocked her head to listen. She could hear a group of people talking and laughing in a cornfield not far off the road.

  “I say, it’s most likely teenagers partying and getting drunk like idiots. They always do that this time of year.”

  “They always do that anytime of the year,” Runyx replied with a snort. “Hey, get on my back. Let’s have some fun.”

  Stryk jumped onto her back with a laugh. “Ha ha! Are we going to do the old - charge through while wailing - prank? That’s one of my favorites.”

  “Exactly.” Runyx began jogging. From her nostrils, she puffed supernatural smoke that smelled faintly of brimstone. It flowed rapidly ahead of them to make the dim moonlight even spookier. It didn’t take long for her to reach a pounding, rhythmic run and she began snorting loudly to add to the effect.

  “Oooooo, ooooohhhhh, beeeewwwaaaaarrrreeeeee!” Stryk moaned chillingly. He flopped around like a rag doll while using supernatural powers to stay on her back. The straw man hardly weighed anything, so Runyx didn’t mind him being there for things like this even though she normally wouldn’t accept anyone on her back.

  “Moooooooooooooooooo!” she bellowed as they tore through the small area where six teens had trampled enough of the cornstalks to sit comfortably. They had a camp lantern to provide a little bit of light while they drank cheap beer.

  All but one screamed in fright while scattering in different directions. The one that didn’t move froze in terror while urine darkened his jeans. Runyx made it a point to shatter the lantern by kicking it as she charged by.

  A minute later, she and Stryk were far enough away to slow down to a walk. They couldn’t stop laughing at the reactions of the teens who were still screaming and yelling from deep within the cornfield. One girl was especially loud, letting out high-pitched shrieks over and over again.

  Stryk hopped off her back and they laughed the rest of the way to town.

  ***

  Most of the town was brightly lit so it would be safe for children to stroll through the neighborhoods. Kids from surrounding farms joined with the ones in town, most wearing homemade costumes like sheets over their head for ghosts. Oddly enough, no one dressed up like a farmer.

  The edge of the town was darker and few children ventured there. Runyx and Stryk were heading toward a specific house on the outskirts. It was a large manor with sculpted bushes, low cut lawn, pretty trees and a tall stone fence that surrounded everything. Wrought iron gates at the driveway entrance were shut tight and had a sign that said Trick or Treaters not welcome.

  “She’s inside,” Abel called from a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree where he had been waiting for them. “Her parents are there too.”

  “Thank you, Abel.” Runyx studied the second floor of the manor where a lone light shone from a window at the right corner. “Is she with her parents or is she in her room?”

  “She’s alone in her room,” Abel answered. “What do you know about her and what’s the plan?”

  “Her name is Opal, she’s nine years old and she’s never been allowed to go trick or treating.” Runyx led them to the gate and moved to the other side with a blink of her eyes. Stryk squeezed through the bars and Abel flew over before landing on the straw man’s top hat. Runyx continued, “She’s a very good girl who always obeys her parents and never gets into trouble. It’s one of her greatest wishes to go trick or treating, so we’re going to see to it that she gets to tonight.”

  “It sounds like we’re doing a good deed. That’s not in our job description,” Abel said suspiciously.

  Runyx grinned evilly, which looked very odd on a cow, even an unholy one. “Her parents have an ironclad rule that she will never go trick or treating. We’re going to get Opal to break that rule by convincing her to sneak out of the house with a scarecrow, a cow and a raven.” They went to the side of the house where the roof hung low. “Then we’re going to take her out to get candy, which is also against the rules in her household. We’re going to encourage her to talk to strangers. Then we’re going to take her home with a full bag of candy and tell her to hide it from her parents.”

  “That sounds quite evil to me.” Stryk leapt up to the roof and walked quietly toward the girl’s window.

  Runyx used supernatural powers to levitate to the roof. She was able to walk lightly on the shingles with those same powers. She was too big to fit through the window, so she blinked again and magically appeared in the room. There was just enough space for her to stand at the base of the girl’s bed.

  Opal was a blonde haired girl with a frilly dress that matched her bright blue eyes. In her lap was a small, floppy eared black bunny that she was softly petting. She stared in wide-eyed wonder at the unholy cow in her room and then at the scarecrow and raven coming in through the window. “Okayyyy, this is really weird. Why are you in my room?”

  “I’m Runyx. These are my friends Stryk and Abel.” The unholy cow nodded in their direction. “It’s our understanding that you want very much to go trick or treating.”

  “Umm . . . yes . . .” she said tentatively. “But I’m not allowed to. Trick or treating is evil and only bad children ever do it.”

  “Well then. It’s time for you to be a bad girl and join us for a wonderful night of evil candy gathering,” Runyx told her. “Do you have a costume? If not, you could pass for Alice in Wonderland with that blue dress and your blonde hair.”

  The girl just stared with her jaw hanging open. It seemed that a talking cow was more than she was capable of comprehending. Stryk sat on the bed next to her and petted the bunny. He jerked his hand back when the bunny pulled a straw out of the sleeve and began eating it. “I love Alice. It’s one of my favorite stories ever, especially the parts with the pills and the hookah-smoking caterpillar. Now put away that bunny and come with us,” he told her.

  “Yes,” Abel agreed. “Come with us. We’re obviously trustworthy. It’s totally going to be safe.” The raven rolled his eyes.

  “Okay,” Opal agree
d, much to Abel’s surprise. “Come on Emo Bunny, let’s put you back in your cage for now and I’ll bring you a nice bit of apple later.” She got off the bed and took the bunny over to a multi-level cage. After putting him in, she turned back to Runyx with concern on her face. “I’ll get into a lot of trouble if my parents find out.”

  “They won’t find out. Now take Stryk’s hand and go out the window with him. We’ll get you down from there.” Runyx was thrilled that the girl was agreeing so easily. She didn’t even have to influence Opal with magic like she expected. Sometimes the best-behaved children were the most likely to do foolish things.

  “There’s a good girl,” Stryk told her as he lifted her up through the window. Abel flew ahead to perch on the front gate and Runyx blinked herself back onto the roof.

  “Lift her onto my back,” Runyx told the scarecrow. He did so and the girl plopped down with a gasp of surprise. She gasped again when Runyx jumped off the roof and floated gently down to the ground.

  “This is really weird. I love it,” Opal said happily.

  “You’re not worried that we’re kidnapping you or something terrible?” Abel asked incredulously from the gate. Runyx glared at him for daring to jeopardize their mission. He ignored her.

  “No, cows don’t kidnap people. Plus, it’s Halloween, so weird things are supposed to happen. I read it in my grandma’s diary.” She held her arms out to Stryk as he lifted her off Runyx. Then she slipped through the gate with him. “Grandma was a witch, but mother and father don’t know that. I hide her diary in a secret lock box in the attic.”

  “I say, her grandmum was a witch. That explains a great deal about why we’re here,” Stryk said with a nod. He walked hand-in-hand with Opal as they headed into town. “Did you know her grandmum, Runyx?”